


In This Moment

by Mawkinberd



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, F/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24456544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mawkinberd/pseuds/Mawkinberd
Summary: Before the Spring Snaps: The Classics FestPrompt: Eowyn & Faramir, Lord of the RingsWhen Ginny is injured in the Battle of Hogwarts, she begins to learn the value of each moment.Thanks to Ravenpuff Love for the title image! <3
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 16
Collections: Before the Spring Snaps: The Classics





	In This Moment

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [BTSS2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/BTSS2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Eowyn and Faramir (The Lord of the Rings)

It was warmth first, warmth she had forgotten for some reason. Warmth, and pressure that was vaguely sinking into pain across her torso. She tried to moan, but her lassitude was too much to summon it. A breeze seemed to pour in, bringing scents of disinfectant, home, and something that faintly sang a waltz into her confused senses. One, two, three, one, two, three… There had already been a murmur, but she vaguely felt it begin to rise, becoming more aware as voices began to vibrate on her skin, making her aches buzz more strongly across her body.

“Harry,” she heard a voice say, and she realized she was hearing her mum. “Oh, Harry,” her mother sighed, and she could hear the tears clogging her throat.

“Mrs. Weasley,” replied his voice, muffled through one of her mother’s squeezes. She heard his feet shuffle nervously, typically uncomfortable with touch. She almost rolled her eyes at the familiarity, but instead cracked them barely open. She watched them break apart, her mum keeping her hold on Harry’s shoulders. He looks so pale, she thought.

“Are you alright? Where are you staying? We would love to have you with us, especially now.” Mum seemed to be searching his face as she held him by the shoulders at arm’s length. Her face was open, but her reddened eyes showed her fight with tears.

His expression was evasive. “I’ve been having to go and do, at all hours. The Ministry has been at me all the time. I didn’t want to make things harder.” She could see the struggle in his face. She wondered for a moment why he looked so lost.

“It’s alright, Mrs. Weasley. He’s been staying with us.” The hoarse tenor of the new voice brushed against her skin and pulled her mother’s look reluctantly away from Harry’s face. “We DA members stick together, no matter what.” His eyes tipped towards her face and widened at her attention before reaching for her hand. “Gin?”

She wanted to say it, to answer him, but she could feel herself sinking again. As her sight got softer around the edges, as she saw her mother seem to unfurl herself in her direction, as she vaguely saw Harry fade back in the distance, she turned her eyes to Neville and wondered, Is he waiting for me to come back?

~

_“But I don’t know how to dance,” she said as she looked down, studying her toes. She had hoped HE would ask her, but she wouldn’t get to go if no one asked._

_“I’ve been teaching myself,” he answered shyly. “I could practice with you, even… even if you want to go with someone better.” He cleared his throat. “You’re my friend, no matter what.”_

_She heard that same hesitancy in his voice, that same frustration at_ not being enough _that raced through her veins every time she saw HIM walk by, and she couldn’t help answering it. Why not? They are friends. “I would love to go with you. And we can practice together. We’ll be the best dancers there.” She peeked up at his astonished face and grinned, surprising a laugh out of him._

_“Alright, then,” he said, with a little grin starting at the edge of his mouth, answering her._

~

She started waking with a dream, this time.

It was the adrenalin, the screams that started breaking through. She could feel herself panting, her wand dancing that deadly rhythm she had worked so hard to conquer, but it wasn’t enough. Bellatrix Lestrange was in front of her, mad eyes gaping grotesquely as she flitted back and forth, death streaming from her hands. She shrieked mad obscenities as she whipped around, interlacing her curses with girlish giggles and pirouetting at the death surrounding her. Her wand was holding down Colin Creevy with her Crucio as Ginny sprinted toward her. The world surrounding her swirled in a carnival of red blood and purple gore that followed her movements. Ginny gagged as she threw a wordless Expelliarmus at that horror that called herself a witch.

“Oh, little blood traitor here to save the mudblood, eh?” giggled Bellatrix hysterically as her wand twisted impossibly in her hand towards Ginny’s body. “Shouldn’t try to play against your betters, girlie!” Her high-pitched squeals were punctuated with wordless curses, streaming light towards Ginny’s eyes, dazzling her. Can I even hold against her, much less… She didn’t have time to think, just dodge and cast. No time to see if Colin was still there, still breathing.

Just as dreams telescope and refract time, this one pulled her mother to her, the moment impossibly shifting. “Not my daughter, you bitch!” she screamed as she shoved Ginny out of Bella’s path and cast a hasty shield in her direction. The derisive laughter hailed down on her ears as she stumbled back, shocked as her mother shed her housewife persona and began matching Bellatrix curse for curse, move for move.

She turned, thinking to guard her mother’s back, when a vicious purple curse lit the air and slammed into her, knocking her on her arse and making her scream in wordless agony. She thought she had known pain, but this, this fire across her body… As her eyes began tearing, she saw a familiar leer moving toward her as Antonin Dolohov slid into her fading vision.

“Thought you got away, did you, lovey?” he sneered, his eyes tracing her split torso with a lascivious look. “No child is going to get one over on me. Your little Granger friend will be next!”

“Tarantallegra,” came a quiet murmur as Colin Creevy, bloodstained and crawling from the side, raised his wand before falling face first to the floor again, gritting his teeth in agony. His spell had no strength to it, only causing Dolohov to waver, only tripping momentarily.

Only momentarily, but it was enough. Dolohov’s face twisted in fury as he turned and shouted, “Sectumsempra!” His spell caught Colin in the back, spattering gore across the floor and to Dolohov’s feet. He sneered as he stepped forward to kick Colin in the face.

Ginny felt herself lean up on one elbow. Her entire body was shaking with fury and pain, but her wand hand was steady. “Not a child,” she gasped at his back. “I am a witch. Bombarda!” Dolohov’s head snapped back towards her, but it was too late. The furor of her curse blew him into the air, across the Great Hall and through the nearby window, shattering his form as her thoughts were shattering, as her attention was shuddering along with her body, as the fear and adrenaline and agony seemed to be breaking her to pieces, like the pieces of his body cut with the glass and iron struts of the window, like the bleeding, cooling corpse of her classmate, like…

“Ginny!” She felt her hand being shaken in a firm grip, her hair being stroked firmly against her head. Her eyes barely opened, seeing the face of her mum, in tears and stroking her frantically. “It’s only a dream, darling. Please, wake up. I’m here, Ginny. Come back to me!”

“Mum,” she said, more sigh than word.

Her mum’s eyes widened, disbelief and hope warring in them briefly before she turned and shouted. “Poppy! Ginny’s awake! Come quick!”

She felt the pain across her torso rip across her senses and hissed, twisting in denial and waking more pain as she struggled. Her mum’s attention flashed back to her, holding her hand with both her own as she leaned into the bed. “Don’t move, sweetheart, it’ll make the pain worse. Poppy will be here in a second, just hold on…” Her voice was filled with panic.

The curtains around the next bed pulled back suddenly as Neville ran around, coming to the other side. “Mrs. Weasley? Is Gin…” He paused, seeing her squirming in her bed helplessly, and leapt to the side of her bed, grabbing her left hand and tightening his grip. “Breathe, Gin, breathe. We’ve made it through pain before. Breathe.” With one hand holding hers, his other began stroking her arm briskly, the pressure grounding her, grabbing her attention.

Madam Pomphrey came in sight, taking in the scene, Molly’s panic and Neville’s presence. “Step back a moment, Molly. I’ve her potions here.” She briskly began placing vials on the bedside stand and drew her wand as Molly stumbled back. “I’ll have to spell these in her. Neville, can you keep it up?”

Neville nodded as he kept his tight pressure running up and down her arms. “Keeping breathing, Gin. I know you can do this. You feel my hand, right? Try to breathe with it. Just breathe with me here. You can do it. Feel that air go in your nose. Come on. I know how strong you are, but you don’t have to be. Just breathe.” He kept muttering the words as Madam Pomphrey spelled the potions into her system, one by one. Her breath started to ease a bit as the pain began to pull away, as the world started going fuzzy again.

At last, Madam Pomprey sighed as she set the last potion bottle down and began to wave her wand to run diagnostics. Ginny could feel her mind easing away again, but she saw her mother’s body shaking with tears as she clutched herself in her own arms, rocking and crying soundlessly. She couldn’t leave Mum like that. Mum needed her. Her eyes slid to Neville, and she saw in his face that he had understood.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got her,” he said, finally stopping his hand’s slowing slide down her arm and tucking her hair behind her ear. “We’re a team, remember?”

She couldn’t nod, but she knew he knew. Neville always did. She let go and allowed the darkness to cushion her once more.

~

_She was smart, she was strong, and she was a damn good Chaser. She’d dated a few different boys, but it wasn’t a big deal. No one had the right to judge her for that. She wasn’t betrothed, like some of the pureblood butterflies that flitted around, holding their noses in the air as though their lack of kisses made them princesses of the castle. It shouldn’t hurt that some of Michael Corner’s classmates called her that. It shouldn’t hurt that people said she was easy. It shouldn’t hurt that Michael said he agreed._

_It still hurt._

_The door to the empty classroom cracked open slowly. She jumped off the desktop where she was seated, hurriedly wiping her arm across her face as she whipped around._

_“Oh, it’s you,” she sighed, and her shoulders slumped once more._

_He walked toward her softly, footfalls easy in the dust. Since DA had started, his pace was more regular, more assured, less likely to stumble. He came and sat on the desk, gesturing to her before she jumped back onto it, seated beside him. He mirrored her posture, looking down at his hands in his lap for a few moments._

_“Alright, then?” he said quietly._

_She half-laughed, half-sighed. “Yeah.” Feeling braver, she reached over and grabbed his right hand, pulling it over to her knee. “Seems like the smarter ones just think up smarter insults.”_

_He snorted. “Smarter compared to who? You’re top in your year, you know. All I hear from them is jealousy. Smarter than they are, prettier, better at Quidditch…” His words came to a halt, then he mumbled something quietly._

_“What was that?”_

_“Oh, um. I was just thinking, maybe next time…” He took his hand back, blushing._

_She turned toward him, startled out of her tears. “What?”_

_“Well, maybe you can try someone older next time? Since those prats aren’t mature enough?”_

_Her throat was jumbled with surprised laughter. “Huh. You might be right.” She winked at him saucily, and he joined her in laughter._

~

“It’s alright, Mollywobbles.” Her father’s voice was tired in a way she had never remembered hearing before now. She wondered why, even as she started to become more aware. Her mind was clearer at least.

“I can’t,” her mum sobbed quietly. “I can’t leave her. But I can’t not go. Fred…” Her voice fractured, then tried again. “George needs this now. We can’t keep putting it off.”

Her mind started to clear, then. Remembered how pale Fred had looked. Remembered how George had never looked so ragged, so bereft. How Percy had been driven past something she could understand, rage and guilt and regret, depths she had never really thought Percy would understand. It seemed more like a dark fantasy, like a horrible alternate reality than a memory. Surely she wasn’t remembering correctly. Fred was never still. Fred was never without a laugh or a joke. There was no way Fred…

“There’s no wrong answer, Molly,” her dad sighed. “But Ginny is stable right now, and Poppy would never allow her to harm.”

“But what if she wakes up and I’m not here? What if she needs me? What if she does take a turn?” Her mother’s frantic concern called to her again, called to her to be the daughter she wanted. “My beautiful girl…” She broke down again, sobbing as if her heart was still breaking.

She couldn’t let it go. She was still her daughter, still the strong one. “Mum,” she whispered, her words hardly touching the room. She opened her eyes, looking towards them.

Her father shifted suddenly, releasing her mum to come to her. “Oh, Ginny,” she sighed, weeping and smiling at the same time as she grabbed her hand gently. “Oh, my girl.” Her father moved quietly, smiling as his hand went to her mum’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Dad,” she said, looking into his eyes. They still had that special glow, their gentle blue depths looking at her and seeing her, seeing straight through her skin and to her heart. She loved him, then, loved him purely and completely. He knew the heart of his only girl, and he understood. He would understand what she said.

She turned her eyes back to her mum. “Mum, you need to go. I’m ok.”

Her mother’s eyes crumpled, and she waited for the outburst. “I can’t just leave you here, Ginny. You need me. You just woke up, you don’t know what you’re saying.” She reflexively leaned toward her, as though to grab her in a hug, but she fell back after a moment, knowing it would aggravate her wounds. “I need to be here for you.”

Ginny sighed and glanced at her dad knowingly before looking back. “George. He needs you now. I’m ok. I’m ok here.” She patted the bed vaguely with her other hand, a gentle tap. “I need you, but George. He needs you more.” She closed her eyes briefly, her breath short after her exertion.

Her mum burst into tears again and turned her head to her dad’s shoulder. He murmured shushing noises and soft words as his arms surrounded her again. Ginny closed her eyes slowly, then opened them again to look around. There had to be some way she could let her mum do what she needed to do.

His face seemed to come out of white nothing, until she realized he was coming around one of the dividers from the next bed. He looked tired, too, but his eyes lit as he looked and saw her awake. She felt a familiar thump in her chest, her body greeting him. I knew he’d be here, she thought. “Neville?”

“Gin,” he said, pulling up the chair and settling next to her, grasping her hand with one hand and stroking it with the other. “You’re looking more awake this time.”

Her mum turned, looking startled at his presence. “Oh, Neville. How are you, dear?” She seemed embarrassed as she started to wipe her tears with her sleeves, like a child. Her dad pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her wordlessly before returning to stroking her arms.

“Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley,” Neville said softly. “I couldn’t help but hear you talking.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, dear. How is your gran? I hope we didn’t disturb her rest.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Weasley. She is still asleep. Madam Pomphrey says she won’t wake until this evening.” He paused and looked at Ginny’s face searchingly. She nodded slightly, knowing what he would do. What Neville would always do. “You know, I would be more than happy to guard Ginny today. I can watch her and my gran, no problem.”

Her mum looked away, out the windows behind her. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and nodded decisively at Neville. “You know, Molly, no one could be more qualified to keep her safe. She’ll be just fine for the afternoon.” He pulled her face around gently, looking in her eyes. “None of us want you torn in two. You deserve to be whole. Ginny will be safe here when we return.”

A strange quiet came over the ward as Ginny waited. When had mum ever surrendered without a fight? When had mum ever had to choose this way? What is magic for, if it can’t save Mum from this?

But when her mum turned and looked into her eyes, Ginny could see that she had surrendered, for once. Ginny nodded to her. It was barely the slightest movement, but she could see it freed her in a way that nothing else would.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” her mum said, sounding rather desperate.

“I know, Mum,” she said softly. “I know you will always be there for me.”

Arthur gave Molly’s hand a squeeze and pulled her into a warm hug before squeezing Ginny’s hand as well. Her mum and dad turned and walked toward the ward doors, leaving Ginny and Neville to their thoughts.

“You can get some sleep, you know,” Neville murmured to her a little later, still stroking her hand. “I’ve got everything covered. You need more rest to heal.”

She closed her eyes, exhausted once again. “Neville?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Colin… did he really?”

He sighed, then shrugged reluctantly. “He was DA. He wasn’t going to give up or abandon you.”

“I tried to save him.”

“I know.”

She let his hands lull her as she started down that dark tunnel to nothingness again, but just before she was gone, she thought she felt lips brush her forehead.

~

_He was insane. It was all insane. How could he have done that spell?_

_She knew he wasn’t perfect. He was messy and angry and always hiding, even as he was kind and generous and so, so brave. He drove her mad with how completely blind he was to her._

_And yet, it was her night. Everyone had thought that his absence would mean no Gryffindor victories, that she and her prat brother would drop the Quaffle and let their House down. She may be a better Chaser, she may not be the Chosen One, but she wasn’t one to get walked over. And now, even now, they were going to celebrate. Was Snape done with him? Did he wait in the Common Room? Would he be there?_

_The Fat Lady gave them no clue, but that didn’t matter for long. The usual suspects had bribed the house elves well, and the party was banging on proper when the portrait hole opened again unexpectedly. He was obviously not sure until he peeked in what had happened, and his sudden, open admiration spurred her on. She was brave. She was a winner. She was good enough, even for the Chosen One. She gave him a hard look in the eye before striding up and kissing him decisively._

_He seemed shocked, but he didn’t let that last. His arms came up to grasp her biceps, his eyes closing. She couldn’t help watching his face relax, then tense at the shattering of a bottle. He wasn’t perfect, so she could forgive his eyes shooting open, his anxious look at Ron, looking for permission. Her glare didn’t seem to bother Ron much, but the focused look of Neville over his shoulder caught her briefly, gave her pause. There was a look in his eyes she didn’t understand. She almost worried, but his deliberate nod told her as clearly as it could, I’ve got your back._

_Harry grasped her hand and murmured something in her ear. High on her victory, she followed him as he pulled her back out the portrait hole and down the hall, looking for privacy. She didn’t notice Neville’s eyes following her path. It was time to enjoy her victory._

~

The moments started to get longer as time went on. Neville told her about what happened in the final battle as she rested. Turns out, he had been running towards them when she had blown Dolohov through that window. She had only missed Harry’s final confrontation with You Know Who by moments. It had been too late for Colin, but once her mother had smashed Bellatrix’s body to death’s gate, they had frantically worked together to save Ginny from bleeding out. Madam Pomphrey’s experience with healing Hermione from the same curse two years previous after the battle at the Department of Mysteries had been the only reason they were able to save her. Since Snape was no longer with them (and Snape, a hidden hero, really?), they couldn’t rely on his expertise with Dark magic to rid her of all the effects.

Her mother was guilt-ridden that this was the case. No one had said anything yet to Ginny about what the curse had done to her, and she had to be asleep while the dressings were changed because of the pain, but she could tell from her mother’s eyes that the scarring must be horrible. Not that Ginny cared that much, but she remembered how broken her mother had been when Bill’s face had been scarred beyond repair. Her attitude didn’t seem to matter much to her mum. She acted as though Ginny were damaged, and it wasn’t helping her healing to see her guilty face all the time. The little progress they had made which allowed Molly to go to Fred’s funeral seemed to melt away as her anxiety became harder and harder to ignore or overlook.

“It’s not your fault, Mum, alright?” she finally shouted tearfully one night as Molly continued to weep silently after her latest dressing change. “You kept Bellatrix from killing me. Dolohov didn’t take me away from you. At least I’m still here!”

For the first time since the Battle of Hogwarts, Molly Weasley swelled up in outrage. “How dare you say that, young lady, after what happened to… Fred…” And that quickly, she dropped to the chair, moaning and sobbing. “I should have protected him. I should have protected you. I failed you both.” Her voice started to become monotone, droning in a way that pushed past Ginny’s growing annoyance and started to frighten her.

“Madam Pomphrey!” shouted Neville as he came around the divider, as though he had been waiting to intervene. “It’s Molly!”

“Alright, Mr. Longbottom,” said Madam Pomphrey as she came around the corner. She knelt in front of Molly’s chair, grabbing her hands away from her face and pulling a Dreamless Sleep Draught from her apron. “Here, dear, take this. It’s about time you started caring for yourself, too, you know.” She patted Molly’s hand as she helped her swallow the draught. “There you go. Come on, let’s get you to bed. You’ll not be able to care for Miss Weasley if you keep ignoring your own health.” Molly looked dazed, but she stumbled after Madam Pomphrey to the next bed as Neville belatedly followed and opened the divider between it and Ginny’s bed. “See? Miss Weasley is right there. It wouldn’t hurt at all for you to get a couple winks.” She gave Molly another draught and pulled the covers over her, using soothing words as she went. Neville pulled out the chair and sat where Molly had been before, watching as Molly finally stopped struggling and closed her eyes.

Madam Pomphrey sighed, then turned to Neville and Ginny. “I’ve been expecting this,” she said finally. “What finally crossed the line?”

Neville coughed uncomfortably. “Ginny may have said that she was at least still here.”

“Mmhm, that would do it, indeed,” Pomphrey said with a nod. “You’ve been a hero around here, Mr. Longbottom, and I hate to ask, but…”

“It’s no bother, honestly,” he said hoarsely. “And really, this is where I want to be.”

Pomphrey took a deep breath and got to her feet. “I’m going to firecall your father, Miss Weasley. I think it’s time we had a discussion. I’ll be back shortly.” She moved around, stretching her back a bit, before she headed back to the Infirmary Office, shutting the door with a decisive click.

Neville looked back at Ginny. “Are you alright?” He grasped her hand again, leaning toward her from the edge of the chair.

Ginny nodded. “I’m tired, but I’ll manage.” She darted a look at her mum before looking back at Neville. “What am I going to do? She’s breaking apart at the seams, sitting here with me all the time. She needs to be, well, I don’t know.” She was almost tearful with frustration. “I don’t know what she needs, but it isn’t this. And I don’t want to lose my temper with her when she’s obviously hurting so bad.”

“I know,” he said. “She’s tormenting herself, and that’s not going to help it get better. She’s too alone up here.” He squeezed her hand briefly before he rose. “Let me check on Gran for a moment. I’ll keep an ear out for you.” She nodded, and he walked back around the divider. She swallowed her anxiety and rolled her head back toward her mother’s still form.

It wasn’t too long before she heard her father’s voice, talking to Madam Pomphrey as they exited her office door. He looked surprised to find Ginny awake, but he immediately went to her bed and squeezed her hand gently. “Alright there, Spark?”

She grinned feebly at the very old nickname. “Hey, Dad. Alright?”

His smile was gentle, buoying her from her worry a bit. “I’m happy to be here with you. You seem stronger every day.” He leaned over, kissing her on the forehead. “I know you’re worried about your mum. What was it today?”

“I’m sorry, Dad. I just thought, you know, that she’d cling less as I was getting better. It just gets worse. She’s blaming herself for everything.”

He nodded, looking pained. “As am I, I’m afraid. It’s one of those things about being a parent. You know your children have to grow up, you know you can’t protect them, but…” He looked down for a moment, then looked up with tears in his eyes. “No parent should have to bury their child.”

“Too right, Arthur,” said an elderly voice. The voice was tired, but it had a core of steel. “And there’s no easy way down that road. You never forget where you failed, even if the failure wasn’t really yours.”

They both turned in surprise. It seemed Neville's Gran had taken an interest in their conversation.

“Augusta,” her dad answered. “Terribly sorry, didn’t mean to disturb your rest.”

“Not at all,” she said, her posture stiff even sitting in her infirmary bed. “I sleep very little, these days.”

It took a bit of concentration for Ginny not to stare at the witch. She had heard Neville and his gran talking on occasion, but their voices had always been indistinct. She had seen Madam Pomphrey bring in different remedies, but she had rather assumed she was in much worse shape. Now she seemed poised, steady. Neville completed moving the divider as he had between the other beds earlier and moved the bedside chair to face them all. His ears were a little red, so she knew he was behind their unexpected audience with the formidable Dowager of House Longbottom.

Her father chuckled ruefully. “It hardly seems politic to mention, but I hadn’t thought about your loss in that light. You know precisely what we’re facing.”

“Perhaps not,” she said in her slightly cold fashion. “But regardless, I know some things. One thing I know is your wife is too much alone here.”

“Yes, well. You are correct, madam. I cannot tear her from Ginny’s side, but she needs something. Someone else.” He cleared his throat hesitantly. “Perhaps you would be willing?”

“Were I not, I would not be speaking with you now, Arthur. Besides, not all bravery is in the quick thinking, the proud battles and scars. Sometimes, bravery is the cold hard road, the slow road.” She nodded her chin at Neville, unsmiling but beaming. “My grandson is teaching me that. And I will be proud of the opportunity to follow his example, if you wish.”

His face turned bright red at her words, but Ginny could tell he was fighting a proud grin. _He has always been good enough. And it is about time everyone knew it._

~

_Ginny and Luna had always had a strange relationship. On the one hand, they were equals in age, both quick and intelligent, and had spent a long time together as neighbors. Otherwise, they were completely different. Ginny had always felt somewhat responsible for Luna’s wellbeing, particularly at Hogwarts, since so few people seemed to value her. Despite her insight, Luna had always seemed frail to Ginny, and it had led her to being protective of her in any situation they shared, no matter how grim. So, it was no surprise that, when Luna was called out by Amycus for Cruciatus practice, she was already on her feet to prevent it._

_It was like being reformed from center outward, turning from flesh into a new star._

_Amycus was not one to waste time on taking it easy on his victims, but he had a particular joy in tormenting Ginny as much as possible. It became obvious very early on that he wasn’t just interested in the prettier girls for torture, and he made it clear that he would gladly be kinder to the girls that sought his favor. He couldn’t do this openly without bringing the furor of his sister, though, so he tried to be cagey and schedule detentions she couldn’t attend._

_Ginny was a particular target of his, but she had managed to find ways to never have detention alone with Amycus, and he was particularly angry about it. Having a chance to take charge of her for blatantly undermining his authority in front of an audience was just the chance he wanted to punish her for making him feel the fool._

_No one else in her year had seen so strong or long a use of Cruciatus on one of their fellow students. Perhaps that was why everyone but Luna had left her in the classroom after Amycus had dismissed them, scattering like mice before the hawk’s shadow. Then again, as Ginny bucked and spasmed on that floor, barely registering Luna’s gentle singing and handholding, perhaps she wasn’t thinking as clearly as she normally would, since there was no way Neville would have arrived so quickly had not her fellow students scattered on the mission to find him immediately._

_She had no idea how she ended up in his arms, but it was only later that she found it even odder to realize how surprising it was that he was able to get her all the way to the Room of Requirement without anyone else noticing, especially all the way from the DADA classroom on the far end of the third floor. Maybe the whispers were true, that the castle herself understood Neville and helped him rescue so many. But by the time her thoughts were clear enough to think to ask him, she was already spread out on a cushion and starting flashback seizures._

_There were other students who had been cruciated enough to set off a series of smaller seizures of pain that the students ended up calling flashbacks, so they already knew some things that helped. Luna was good at keeping heads clear from hurting themselves while thrashing, and Padma had a pain relief potion that even seemed to slow the tremors somewhat. The most effective treatment, though, seemed to be helping the longer outer limbs from pulling too tightly in, and massaging out the horribly knotted muscles to keep them from involuntarily snapping tendons. Neville was the only one of them, though, who could do it while someone was seizing and keep it from getting worse. She knew it had to be him, when her flailing limbs were gently immobilized or stretched. All she could do was whisper his name over and over again in her mind, a talisman against a pain for which she had no other defense._

_Luna was still humming when she came around, but Neville was the first person she saw. He had a determined look around his eyes, but his hands were gentle as he rubbed them up and down one bicep, finding knots and releasing them. “Back with us?” he asked quietly._

_“How, how do you do it?” she whispered, her voice completely gone after her screams._

_He knew exactly what she meant, but he still shrugged. Still not sure of his value, but determined to do what needed doing. “It’s important, and I can do it. Same reason you did it for Luna.” He turned and motioned to someone behind her, who handed him a potion. He held it for her as Luna pulled her head up slightly, so she could swallow. Its frigid thickness felt incredible as it soothed the fires in her throat. She sighed deeply against her fluttering stomach muscles as Luna lowered her head again. Neville moved down to her legs as Luna began running her hands gently over her neck muscles._

_“I had to,” she whispered out of the blue a few moments later. It felt important that she made sure to say it, even though she wasn’t sure why._

_“No, you didn’t,” Neville said unexpectedly. “But you did it anyway, and that made all the difference.”_

_Luna’s breathy voice joined in. “I could have been today’s example. It wouldn’t have changed the world dramatically if I had. But what you did changed my world.”_

_“Exactly,” said Neville. He seemed to fumble for a minute, but then he continued. “Prophecies don’t really matter, in the end. It’s the little things we do, that we choose to do over and over, that change the world. But it can only change one person at a time.”_

_“That’s what Neville’s good at, see. He changes the world every day.” Luna smiled. “He’s changing your world now, in this moment. Tomorrow, someone else’s.” She paused a moment, consideringly. “People forget that all we really have is in this moment, you know.”_

_Neville’s face looked conflicted, but he seemed to let it go. “You should go to sleep, Gin. I think you’re done with flashbacks for a few hours. You’ll need your strength.”_

_As she closed her eyes, Ginny thought about her world and why Neville would care enough to change it. But before she could decide, the cool darkness swallowed her whole._

~

The days were getting easier. As Madam Longbottom spent more of her time with her curtains drawn open, Molly seemed to be dealing better with her grief and fear. Soon, it wasn’t that uncommon for one of her brothers to come for a while, or sometimes her father, while her mum went to take care of the Burrow or testified at the Ministry. Before too long, Madam Longbottom had regained enough of her strength to return to her own tasks, but she continued to spend time with Molly between meetings with the Wizengamot and caring for the Longbottom Estate.

Neville continued to stay at the castle during the day. He said he was helping with the rebuilding effort, but he often took over sitting with Ginny or helping Madam Pomphrey. He wasn’t able to brew the way Padma did, but he provided the plants needed. It wasn’t long before he officially became Professor Sprout’s apprentice, a promotion that made him obviously but shyly pleased. After that, he came daily in the evening to share with Ginny all the trials and successes he had with his work. If Ginny hadn’t already appreciated him for his loyalty and good humor, she had plenty of time now to learn to value him now. As it was, he was becoming such an integral part of her life, she was beginning to worry as the day of her release kept coming nearer and nearer as her health improved.

It was nearing the middle of July when Ginny saw Harry Potter walk into the hospital wing. He still looked thin and tired, but there was also a look of calm purpose back in his eyes. She had been expecting Neville to drop by in the next few minutes, but it still surprised her a little when she felt a dip of disappointment when she realized it was Harry instead. Strangely, there was no one else, patient or visitor, in the Hospital Wing at the moment, so she knew he was there to visit her.

“Ginny,” he said, grasping her hand as she laid her book to the side. “You look so much better.” He immediately started to blush at his faux pas and dropped her hand, making her laugh. Some things, apparently, never change.

“Smooth, Potter,” she chortled, letting her hand drop back to the coverlet. He finally laughed himself, self-deprecating as always, and drew up the chair to sit. He seemed to be determined, but he didn’t have anything to say at first. Before it got too uncomfortable, she decided to give him a break. “How’ve you been? Mum said you’ve gotten Grimmauld Place into decent shape.”

“Pretty much,” he admitted, looking a little more at ease. “Kreacher has been much easier to handle since he led the other house elves to protect Hogwarts. He has friends who visit and everything.” He grinned. “You haven’t lived until you’ve seen Kreacher cooing over a new grand niece or nephew elf. It’s completely surreal.”

Ginny was startled into a laugh. “The very thought of Kreacher with a child of anyone is enough to make me doubt my sanity.” She noticed he was looking down and still uncomfortable, so she took another stab at it. “What’s up at the Ministry these days? Dad’s not saying a lot, but it sounds like the trials are starting to pick up.”

He rolled his eyes at that, looking a bit more grim. “More like they’re finally starting to get off their backsides and doing their jobs. The public is out for blood, after all the damage that Hogwarts took, and how many people…” He paused, then cleared his throat. “People want to get their vengeance, or closure, or whatever you want to call it. But there’s still Death Eaters at large, even with people turning on them so completely. And I don’t know if Ron told you, but Kingsley has asked anyone who was in their last year here that fought to join the Aurors, even without NEWTS. He wants us especially, me and Ron and Hermione.”

“Neville mentioned it not too long ago. He had trouble believing it, even after everything.”

Harry snorted. “No surprise, there. Neville rarely sees himself the way others see him. He almost seems bewildered when people start in on him about being a hero in the last battle.”

Ginny could see that, so she nodded. It was completely in character for Neville to not understand how much he gave others, or how they felt about him afterward. The idea felt like a stab in the gut momentarily.

“Anyway, since the British wizarding community,” he said with a fake pretentious flourish of his hand, “is feeling unhappy with our progress, Kingsley’s team of experts have decided that we need to have a memorial ceremony at Hogwarts. Make it public, but make it heartfelt and inclusive, so we can change the focus of everyone’s pain. Bring it back towards rebuilding, rather than hunting for blood.” He ran his hand through his hair, leaving his fingers massaging the back of his neck. “Of course, it’s going to be a bit of a dog and pony show, but he’s right about one thing. We need to have a positive way to remember everyone. We need a way to honor the people who lost their lives here. And we need a way to tell those stories, so people can remember, so we don’t fall into that trap again.”

“I can see that,” Ginny said, slowly. “Do you know what he wants to do?”

Harry dropped his hand back to his lap and sighed. “Well, the worst of it is that he wants it on my birthday, which doesn’t give us much time. He says we could expand it each year, make it more meaningful, but I’d still rather not have my birthday as a national holiday.”

Ginny laughed again. “I can’t wish you Happy Harry Potter Day?”

He joined her laugh. “Oh, I suppose you could. I might not answer, though.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’ve missed you.”

She was surprised, but she kept her smile. “I’ve missed talking to you, Harry. You’ve been too busy for us little people lately.” She stuck out her tongue cheekily.

Predictably, he turned bright red. “It’s not like that!” he objected hotly, but then relented and laughed again. “I’m sorry. I wanted to be here more. I hate I haven’t seen you in so long, but it seemed like you were sick forever.”

She nodded. “I missed myself, for a while there. It feels lonely when you only get moments at a time with each person. I’ve felt a bit left out away from it all.”

“Well, I want you to be involved in this,” he said, reaching for her hand to hold once again. She felt her stomach tighten, but not in anticipation. “I want you to be there with me when we have the ceremony. I want people to know how important you are to me, when we share that moment.”

“Harry,” she breathed, touched. “I’m, I’m not sure I can do that. I don’t think I’ll be well enough to walk that far.”

He looked puzzled. “You don’t have to walk. We’ll get Hagrid to carry you down, or levitate a chair, or something like that.” He squeezed her hand, looking at her face. “You don’t want to come?”

She took a deep breath and pulled back her hand. “Harry, I’m not sure what you’re saying here.” She took a moment to change her sitting position, then looked back at him. Her head was swirling, but it felt like something had clicked into place. “Are you trying to ask me out? Because this is a really strange way to do that.”

“I…” He looked flabbergasted. “Ginny. You know how much you mean to me. I only asked for us to stop dating…”

“Because you had to go, I know. But even after you defeated You Know Who, I haven’t really seen you.”

He stood up, his restless energy turning to pacing next to her bed. “Well, you know. I’ve been busy.” She felt something twist inside her, but she stayed quiet as he wiped one hand down his face, then turned back toward her. “You know I still love you. All I’ve thought about while I was gone was you.”

“Actually, I really don’t know. I haven’t seen you in almost two months. And it’s not like it was hard to find me here.” She started to get angry, but she stopped and took a deep breath. “I do love you, Harry, but I… I don’t think I love you the right way. Not for this.”

Harry turned and looked away before bringing his eyes back to her. The hurt in them was palpable. “So it wasn’t real, huh? We were wishing and hoping and holding out for something that wasn’t there.”

“No, Harry,” she said sharply. “We both love each other. I just… I think you need some time, or maybe someone you feel stronger about. You’ve had all this pressure on you, and you’ve never had a chance to just be yourself.”

“But I want to,” he said, walking back to the seat and grasping her hand again. “I want to be with you. I want that time with you.”

Her tears finally wouldn’t hold back, starting a trail down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. It can’t be me. Not anymore.”

He didn’t pull his hand away, but he did look down for a bit before sighing and looking back up at her. “I don’t know what to say, Ginny. I’ve been waiting for this all year. Did I do something wrong?”

“Never, Harry,” she said quietly. “You’ve done what you had to do. You always do.”

He pulled his hand away and stood, watching her face silently. Finally, he turned and walked toward the exit as if to leave. As he opened the door, he turned and looked again. “I didn’t want to leave you. I don’t want to leave you.”

She thought for a moment, but she had to trust her gut. “I know, but it’s the right thing to do.”

He nodded and left, letting the door close silently behind him.

She wasn’t sure when the tears started, but she did notice when Neville handed her a handkerchief and began soothing her hand. She smiled at his compassionate face for a moment, but her eyes just couldn’t hold his. He didn’t ask questions.

“Heard that, did you?” she said after a few minutes of silence.

He shook his head. “I saw him walk in. Didn’t want to walk in on you, so I waited until he left.” He let go of her hand to fill her glass with a quiet Aguamenti and handed it to her solemnly. “Want to talk?”

“Gods, no,” she said. She caught his eye again long enough to smile and looked down again, toying with the glass. “How was Professor Sprout today?”

“Oh, she was into mischief. The Tentacula somehow managed to pull its pot towards her desk and started tearing her supplies. It really didn’t like it when she tried to stun it into submission.” He kept telling her little stories about mishaps in the greenhouses until her tears were from laughter rather than self-doubt. She smiled and enjoyed her chance to watch him as he became more animated than she usually saw. It was a start.

~

The day of the ceremony shone brightly through the deeply set windows of the infirmary, but Molly Weasley was still unhappy. She had tried in vain to get Ginny to come to the memorial, but she was adamant that she preferred the hospital wing. In truth, she was feeling well enough to be carried, but she didn’t want to leave while she still felt so vulnerable. It was too hard to worry about everyone else protecting her for her to go out just yet.

It was finally Neville, of course, who found a solution. When he sailed into the room with Madam Longbottom, Molly seemed as though she would protest their escort, but once Neville explained, she happily allowed Augusta to sweep out with her, headed to the grounds near Dumbledore’s tomb. Neville took a deep breath and sighed with relief as he flopped into the chair by her bed.

“Afraid it wouldn’t work?” Ginny said with a grin. “I wish I’d thought of it earlier, before Mum got her word in.”  
“Might have made for a quieter morning,” Neville allowed, grinning. “But I’m glad to play knight in shining armor for a change.”

Her stomach flopped over as she laughed. “Oh, my grand and wondrous Prince, however shall I repay you for this madness?”

He laughed back and turned pink. “Perhaps I can persuade you to be my escort to the mighty parapets of Hogwarts, that we can enjoy the pomp of the occasion without having people crawling all over us?” He sketched a silly bow from his seat.

She twisted her head to the side and tossed her hair. “You had only to ask, Your Grace.”

He stood next to her bed and held her hand as she turned in the bed and slowly stood. She took a moment to be certain of her balance. “Ready?” she said lightly.

“As can be,” he said, wrapping her hand around his nearer elbow and escorting her slowly toward the door. “Be sure to let me know if you tire. I know you’ve been walking further, but..”

“I won’t fall, Neville,” she said patiently, not surprised at his caution.

“No, I’d catch you,” he said seriously.

She nodded, knowing it was true. “Then don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

The battlements nearest the infirmary were still shaded this time of morning, and there was a breeze. They could clearly see the white marble of the tomb and the large group of people that were there, gathering around a large covered monument. It was surprisingly cool so close to the thick, smooth stones of Hogwarts’ defensive curtain. Ginny shivered as a stronger breeze pulled at her hair.

Neville gallantly swung his cloak around and put it around her shoulders. She admired the thick midnight blue velvet subtly layered with silver pinpricks scattered like stars around her shoulders. “This is pretty posh, Neville. New?”

“Gran pulled it out for me. Apparently, it used to be my mum’s. Not sure why she thought it worked for today, but I couldn’t tell her no.” He sighed, then moved behind her so he could rub both her upper arms with his hands. “Feeling warmer?”

She relaxed and leaned back into him slightly, feeling the chill die down as her skin heated. “Much better, thanks.”

He stilled, then moved around so he could see her face, though one arm was still around her shoulders protectively. “Do you need to go back? I know the cold from the curse is still intense.”

She shook her head. “It’s not nearly so bad when you’re here.”

Neville grimaced slightly. “This may be a bad time, but…”

She pulled free from his hold and turned to look fully at him. “What is it?”

He looked shy again for a moment, looking away at the ceremony, then seemed to gather himself. “I just don’t want to put you in a bad position. I know what you told Harry when he stopped by. He came and talked to me.”

She looked away for a moment, then looked back. Neville seemed ready to wait forever. “Are you trying to speak for him?” she said after a moment, her stomach twisting. “Because…”

“No, no,” Neville interrupted. “Nothing like that. I’m just worried about you, Ginny. You’re my best friends, you and Luna are.”

She nodded, not surprised. “It was too much, Nev. I thought for so long that I wanted to be with the Chosen One. I knew about him as long as I could remember, and once I met him, he was, well. He was the only one. Or I thought he was.” She pulled her arms around her waist and looked at her toes.

Neville chuckled for a moment. “Don’t want to be just the Chosen One’s girlfriend, huh?”

She laughed in sudden surprise. “Yeah, I guess so. Want to be me. Maybe I’m the chaser, maybe I’m not. But I don’t want to be the shadow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Neville said comfortably, moving closer again to put his arm around her shoulders.

They watched as the speeches continued, as important people moved through the crowds slowly. Eventually, Ginny sighed and leaned against the parapet. Neville looked after her in surprise.

“I envy you, you know,” she said conversationally.

“Not a chance,” Neville said in surprise. “Why would you envy me?”

“You already know,” she said sadly. “You already know what you want to do, where you will be, what your place is. All I’ve got right now is a few hard no’s and questions.”

“At least it’s a place to start,” he said bracingly. “Why don’t you share? Maybe I can help you.”

She gave a huge sigh and pulled the cloak more tightly around herself. “Well. This curse has changed me a lot. I used to think I’d want to fight, maybe try to be an Auror. I could, but after this, I just can’t see it.”

“I feel the same way,” Neville said heavily. “You know Kingsley tried to get me into the Auror Corp with Harry and Ron, right?”

“He’d be a fool not to,” Ginny said sharply. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

“Maybe, but I don’t want to have to be strong forever,” Neville said. “I thought I was doing the right thing, avenging my parents and all, but that didn’t change what’s already happened. But more than that, being around violence has hurt so many people I care about. I don’t want my life to be that way all the time.”

“That’s another reason I knew Harry and I wouldn’t work out, actually,” Ginny said. “I know I couldn’t stay home and wait to hear about how he would be hurt next. I’ve done that too much.” She reached for Neville’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m glad you feel the same way.”

“Of course,” said Neville, looking deep in thought.

“Neville?” she said tentatively, looking in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just have to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

“You’re my best friend,” he said again, “and I hope that we will always be best friends. I always want to be there for you. And I know I’m not a Chosen One.”

“Thank goodness,” she said with a small smile. “You know how I feel about that now.”

“Yes, well. I just don’t know if I’m good enough for you.”

She took a deep breath and moved closer to him. “You are strong, kind, patient.” She took his two hands between hers. “You are the most loyal person I know.” She raised his hands to hers and gave a tiny kiss to his knuckles. “You’ve held me, healed me, made me laugh, held me while I cried. You would never, ever hurt me or make me feel unimportant.” She pulled his hands down with hers, moving closer to him, raising her eyes to his face. “Why on earth would you not be good enough for me?”

Neville’s eyes looked wide. “I guess it’s hard for me to forget being the almost Squib, the stuttering mess, the forgetful loser not good enough to be a Gryffindor.”

“Forget?” She smiled at his eyes. “I’ve always felt not enough. It was only those moments with you that helped me remember not to compare myself.”

Neville seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before he pulled her into his embrace. She sighed in relief as he hugged her hard against her chest for a few moments, then pulled back to look into her face. She felt her skin go up in flames as he gently kissed her lips, touching her like a prayer. Her pulse thundered as his hands rubbed her back and held her against his own body, his warmth filling her with anticipation.

He pulled away after a moment, checking her face and smiling at her look. “I don’t think I’ve seen you blush like this in a while,” he whispered, like it was their secret.

“I don’t think I’d earned it till now,” she answered with a smirk. “Maybe you could try to see what else makes me blush?”

He turned bright red even as he grinned. “I think I’d like that.”


End file.
